


a future in my life i can't foresee

by atheoryon



Series: Winterhawk Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Blow Jobs, Getting Together, Nonbinary Bucky Barnes, Nonbinary Character, Other, Smut, steeb is also in this for approximately .3 seconds, that just does not sound sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 09:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20963978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atheoryon/pseuds/atheoryon
Summary: Clint was never, ever listening to Steve again.Or so he thinks.It might have just worked out this time.





	a future in my life i can't foresee

**Author's Note:**

> my fill for the 'bad pick-up lines' square for winterhawk bingo!! 
> 
> note that i don't know anything about baseball. so y'know. all the lines are stolen from google, if anything's wrong blame a corporation.
> 
> title from 'ready to run' by one direction because goddammit im sticking to titling all my fills w 1d songs
> 
> cw - bucky is nonbinary in this, they get misgendered by clint's inner monologue at first but he corrects that as soon as bucky comes out to him. during the sexy-times bucky's dick is described as such, and they're fine with this and it's explicitly stated by them.

Clint was never, ever listening to Steve again. 

Steve ‘apple pie is actually my favorite pie’ Rogers had looked at him with those big blue eyes and before Clint could think better of it he’d agreed to attend a baseball game. Clint didn’t even like baseball, but Steve had shoved him into a jersey, told him not to trust anyone with a different jersey and bought him a hotdog. 

Living the American Dream, all right. 

They were sat right next to a guy who was The Enemy, if Steve’s glare at his blue jacket was anything to go by. Clint just sat awkwardly in between them, enjoying his hotdog. 

After the first inning, Steve, the complete traitor that he was, got a phone call about an immediate work crisis on a security detail that required him, and Clint couldn’t even be mad with the completely sincere apologies bestowed on him. 

It did mean, however, that he was now at a game for a sport he frankly was too gay for to care about, regardless of how good asses looked in baseball pants. The macho straight culture cancelled it out. 

Pity.

Twenty minutes of guys running around later, The Enemy next to him spoke up: “Your guy often leave you for work?” He had his feet kicked up on the chairs in front of him, one arm over the back of the chair next to him, looking every bit the self-satisfied asshole that Clint really should have enough of by now, but secretly loved. 

“Not my guy,” The Enemy raised his eyebrow at that, “and not as often as he could for a guy who’s technically always on call.” 

The Enemy turned his attention back to the game, cheering for The Enemy team occasionally but clearly as a way of having something to do instead of fanatic sportsmanship. Now though, his eyes kept sliding to Clint every now and then, subtle but there in the corner of Clint’s eye. 

The next time, it was Clint who started it: “So, you often come to games on your own?” 

“Only here for the pretty blonds who get deserted by their friends.” The Enemy replied without missing a beat. “I’m Bucky, by the way. They and them pronouns.” 

Clint nodded, correcting his inner monologue, then replied: “Clint. And he, for me.” 

Clint pulled one of his legs up, folding his hands on his knee and turning towards Bucky. He now clocked the small patch on Bucky’s backpack in the yellow, white, purple, and black that one of his college roommates had also worn with pride. Bucky caught him looking, grinning a little. “So you do know your stuff.” 

“College roommate, ze just about didn’t give weekly lectures. Can’t blame hir, really, took me a while with the pronouns. ‘Sides, it’s important to know your own community. Can’t let the straights figure out we’re not a hivemind.” 

Bucky threw their head back laughing at that, their jawline pronounced in a way that made Clint want to _ bite _. But in a polite way. They clearly were out to kill him, keeping their head tipped back, but tilted towards Clint. “The B in LGBT secretly stands for Bee.” 

“Ladybug, grasshopper, bee,” Clint realized his doom trying to come up with an insect starting with a T, “aw, T, no, c’mon I know this,” Bucky wasn’t even trying to hide their amusement as Clint started muttering insects to himself. 

They were three innings and a milkshake further when Clint suddenly called out: “Tarantula hawk!”, startling Bucky from where they’d been checking their phone. “Ladybug, grasshopper, bee, tarantula hawk, I told you I knew this!”

Clint had completely stopped even trying to pretend to pay attention to the game, way too happy to be flirting with Bucky. He was definitely sending Steve’s work a thank-you note. 

Bucky seemed to be having similar thoughts, every inch of their body language inviting, in that smug ‘I know you want to’ way, very much closer to Clint than they had been when they started talking. 

“You know, it’s a pity you already sort of came out, because I had a brilliant way of asking that involved teams and batting.” 

“Well, there’s always catching and pitching, if you’re in the need for baseball metaphors.”

Bucky visibly leaned in now, eyes dropping to Clint’s lips, and they opened their mouth to say something that would no doubt make Steve blush all the way up to his ears, but they were interrupted by a sudden silence, and then a deafening cheer, making them lean back and looking toward the screen. 

Clint did notice they kept one of their hands on Clint’s shoulder, and were slowly but surely venturing that hand into neck territory, as the host with the creepy radio voice started excitedly talking about the kiss cam. 

Clint groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Why are sports like this?” Kiss cams were dumb, weird things where straight people felt the need to propose. The worst.

This particular kiss cam operator though, seemed to have a different plan. The camera consistently landed on the type of excited sports fan with a beer gut and baseball caps, sat next to a supporter of the rival team. 

Clint had to give it to them, it was pretty damn hilarious. 

“All right, last but not least…” The camera spun around for a truly unnecessarily long time, almost stopping a few times, until Clint was faced with his own dumbstruck mug, and Bucky bursting into laughter besides him. 

Clint turned to Bucky with a glare that made them grin, smug and happy, leaning in and curling their fingers into Clint’s jaw in a way that made him slightly more weak in the knees than he’d be proud to admit. As Bucky got closer, he completely forgot about the camera pointing at his face and the people watching them, just focused on Bucky’s bright blue eyes and their sharp jawline. 

This close, he noticed Bucky was wearing chapstick, the shine more pronounced because of the beard they were sporting. That was also the point where Clint _ stopped _ thinking, because Bucky met his eyes one last time before closing them and the distance between them. Rough stubble and lips surprisingly soft, Bucky dragged their lips over his in a way that Clint was sure was illegal in several of the more conservative states. 

Christ, one kiss, what was Bucky doing to him? Clint gave as good as he got, sliding a hair into Bucky’s hair and grinning into the kiss at the catch in Bucky’s breath. Clint was fairly certain that the game was already starting up again, but he couldn’t make himself move away. 

Bucky didn’t seem to have any objections to that, almost climbing into Clint’s lap as they continued pecking his lips. It wasn’t much of a kiss at that point, Clint smiling too wide, but it didn’t seem to deter Bucky, until they suddenly laughed against Clint’s lips. He pulled away a bit, eyebrows raised in confusion. 

“Y’know, for someone who’s not a baseball fan,” Bucky bit their lip in an attempt to stifle their laughter a bit, “can I trust you to know your way around the bases?” 

Clint groaned at the terrible joke, but fully intending to run with the punches, he replied: “My dugout, or yours?” 

“Make it a blowout?” 

“You going for the home run?”

“Unlike Dee Gordon, I give you full permission to tag my butt.” 

“We’ve already established I don’t know anything about baseball, but anything involving your butt sounds great.” 

“Guess that makes you a pitcher?” 

“Well, you should never play a game with one hand tied behind your back, right?” 

Clint was honestly getting concerned that the sound of Bucky laughing was making him way too happy, but he most certainly wasn’t complaining when Bucky pulled him up, dragging him after them and cursing at the occasional fan who called them out for leaving when the game wasn’t finished yet. 

  


They were a few blocks down from the stadium, Bucky happily tucked under Clint’s arm, when something suddenly occurred to Clint. “Hey Buck,” they hummed, rubbing their nose against Clint’s neck and making Clint’s heart melt a little, “so I’m not trying to assume anything here, but with the way you’re squeezing my butt right now, I feel like it’s fair this is going somewhere horizontal and, aw, words, no,” Clint fell silent for a bit, trying to find a way to phrase his question without accidentally offending Bucky, “is there anything I need to know or not do, I guess, with you being non-binary?”

“This is why I’m bringing you home with me, you actually ask that kinda stuff,” Clint preened a little under Bucky’s praise, because shut up, that’s why, “and nah, it’s mostly good, just don’t call me a guy. You can suck my dick all you want.” 

Clint made an exaggerated fist pump.

They probably could’ve made it to Bucky’s place a lot quicker, but they had come across two very cute dogs Clint wanted to pet, and, according to Bucky, Clint was ‘way too hot when petting a dog, what the fuck’ and had promptly dragged him into an alley to kiss him some more. 

Not that Clint was complaining, mind.

Clint was reasonably sure Bucky had a wonderful apartment, with all the Pinterest interior designs a man could dream up, but Bucky had pushed him against the door as soon as they’d taken off their jackets and shoes before he could so much as look at the living room. 

Bucky was all up against him, whispering into his ear about how his ass looked when he walked up the stairs, what they wanted to do to him and Clint couldn’t help but _ thunk _ his head against the door, groaning at the picture Bucky was painting in his head. The sharp sting of Bucky’s teeth in his neck cleared the haze in his mind a bit, although it was quickly replaced by the feeling of ‘yes, bed, _ now _’.

With a slight push against their shoulders, Clint managed to separate Bucky from his neck, only managing a quick ‘bed’ before Bucky was on him again, biting and licking at his lips and tongue in a filthy way that made Clint feel his heartbeat in his dick and glad for the support of the door behind him. It took some effort and all the self-control Clint had, but he managed to hold Bucky at an arm's length for long enough to figure out where their bedroom was. 

Bucky though, seemed to have very different priorities, sizing up Clint’s biceps before telling him to ‘better hold on or you won’t have a dick left’ and wrapping their legs around Clint’s waist and holding onto his shoulders. Leaving Clint to figure out a) walking without proper blood flow to his brain and b) really hoping he was right about the location of Bucky’s bedroom. 

He was right, and he even managed to make it there without dropping Bucky or walking into any furniture. As soon as he walked them into Bucky’s bedroom, they jumped off of him and onto the bed. A bed with space-themed sheets on it. Bucky stretched, rummaging around in their bedside drawer and incidentally giving Clint a great view of their ass. “Your ass is out of this world,” Clint climbed after them onto the bed, settling over their thighs and grabbing two handfuls of ass. 

Bucky dropped their head with an exasperated groan. “That was the worst, Christ,” but they did throw a small tube and condoms onto the bed, so Clint considered it a win. “C”mon, lift up,” Clint obliged, allowing Bucky to twist around and face him. “Is that a telescope in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” 

Clint couldn’t find it in him to reply to the terrible line, fully absorbed by Bucky’s carefree smile where they were lying on the bed, hair fanned around their head like a dark halo, mouth red and shiny and swollen. He leaned over their lean frame, twisting a hand into the fabric of their shirt and licking and biting his way up from Bucky’s neck to their mouth. 

Bucky’s hands scrambled over Clint’s back and ass, touching as much as they could in as short a time-frame as possible, and then insistently tugging his shirt up and off, making an angry sound in the back of their throat at the realization they’d have to stop kissing Clint to get it off all the way. 

Clint sat up, shrugging his shirt off and flinging it in the general direction of _ away _, not taking his eyes off Bucky where they’d started unbuttoning their floral shirt, revealing more and more skin for Clint to greedily drink in. 

Clint was fairly certain he’d died and gone to heaven when he saw the metal bars through Bucky’s nipples. He tipped his head back, biting back a moan and the slightly feral impulse to rip off all of Bucky’s clothes right then and there. It did serve to remind him he was still wearing trousers, which felt a lot tighter, his dick straining against the zipper. 

With some regret at no longer feeling Bucky’s thick thighs underneath him, he got off the bed to shuck his pants, watching Bucky do the same. He almost tripped over himself as he took off his socks when he saw Bucky’s dick pushing against what were quite possibly the tightest red briefs he’d ever seen. 

He bumped his knee against the bed frame in his haste to get back onto the bed, but didn’t register beyond an ‘oops’ in the back of his head, eager to get his mouth on Bucky. He licked one broad stripe up Bucky’s dick through their underwear, feeling it jump under his tongue, then advanced higher, wrapping his mouth around Bucky’s nipple and the metal through it with a single-minded determination, his mind lighting up like fireworks at Bucky’s garbled moan. 

Bucky had one hand pulling on his hair and another clutching onto his shoulder and Clint really, _ really _ hoped he could get their number after this was over because there’s no way in hell he’s letting that ass walk away from him. He switched nipples, licking at the sensitive bud and pulling on Bucky’s other one, then bit their pec, just because he could and pulled away, beaming a grin at Bucky. 

He opened his mouth, but Bucky beat him to it, clamping a hand over his mouth, and saying with a lot of anger that was undermined by a lot of blush staining their cheeks: “If you make a Uranus joke, I will kick you out,” then made a big show of moving Clint’s head up and down. 

Clint was a little bit in love.

He pressed an obnoxious kiss to Bucky’s forehead, then leaned back to get Bucky all the way naked, and-

Look, Clint knew that dicks weren’t exactly Mother Nature’s finest invention, but Bucky’s was downright _ pretty _. Hard, pink and flushed at the tip, bobbing lightly with newfound freedom from Bucky’s briefs. Today really was his lucky day. 

He got comfortable on the bed, his own dick pressing against the mattress, and took Bucky in hand, squeezing the base lightly before rolling a condom onto their dick, then wrapped his lips around the head and getting lost in the feeling of the weight on his tongue, the hand in his hair and Bucky moaning somewhere above him. 

An ache was just starting up in his jaw, and Clint was fairly certain his voice would be rough for a few hours, but Bucky was pleading above him to keep going and _ just there _ and _ fuck _ and Clint was rutting into the mattress, perfectly content, when Bucky suddenly pulled him up, biting the joint where his neck met his shoulder and wrapping a hand around both their dicks and, yeah, that was a whole lot better. Clint dropped his head against Bucky’s shoulder, panting heavily as they twisted their wrist just right and Clint saw a few stars in the corner of his eye. 

Clint was steadily counting down from 100 to 0, trying to keep himself somewhat in control, when Bucky bit his earlobe and told him: “I really want to get my fingers in you, bet you’d sound so pretty for me,” and Clint’s vision whited out for a few seconds, nodding with all the enthusiasm of a puppy being told it was going for a walk. 

Bucky tied off their condom and threw it somewhere to be found later and grabbed the lube from the edge of the bed, only kept on it by some gay god looking out for them, while Clint starfished on the bed, a pillow under his hips, grin pretty much stuck on his face. 

That was also pretty much the moment all rational thought left his brain, everything in his body focused on the way Bucky’s fingers pressed into him and the searing path their lips made over his chest, occasionally going all the way up to kiss him. Clint’s arousal was like liquid fire, burning through his body like lava, languid, slow and all-consuming.

With monumental effort, Clint opened his eyes, wanting to take in Bucky, their flushed cheeks and shining eyes, their fingers working him over, their dick pressing into his thigh. Bucky raised one hand, pinching their nipple, and then dropped it to wrap around Clint’s dick. That was what pushed Clint over the edge, the heat coiled in his gut leaving him to pant up at the ceiling, unable to do so much as move a limb.

He came back to himself to find Bucky smoothing their hands down his arms and up over his chest, letting him sink back into his own body. One of the first things he’s more fully aware of is Bucky, hot and leaking drops of precum onto Clint’s Adonis belt. 

Bucky caught his look, chuckled as they shifted their hips, dragging their dick along the hard lines of Clint’s skin. Bucky slid their fingers through the mess on Clint’s stomach and used it to ease the glide of their hand along their dick. 

Clint didn’t have a sap of energy left in him, but the sight of Bucky jerking off using his come sent a spark up his spine, making him groan, although he couldn’t do anything more than lie there and watch Bucky with hooded eyes. 

It didn’t take long for Bucky to squeeze their eyes shot, coming over Clint’s spent dick and abs with a punched out groan and tumbling forward, sprawling over Clint. They bit into Clint’s shoulder once, making Clint chuckle and press a kiss to the top of their head, before pushing them off and sitting up a bit, looking for a shirt or flannel to wipe them off.

Bucky wasn’t deterred by Clint moving them, keeping an arm around Clint’s torso to prevent him from getting too far. “Buck, c’mon, we’re gross.” Bucky clung even tighter to him, a tiny, really attractive koala and yeah that metaphor didn’t work, but still, they were rutting against Clint a bit and making Clint really regret he wasn’t in his early twenties anymore, ready to go whenever. 

However, Bucky did produce what was probably the shirt they slept in from underneath the pillow, vaguely waving it in the direction of Clint’s hand, but still not getting off of him. “I can’t use that if you’re on top of what I’m trying to clean.” 

“‘M always a top, don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Top-notch pitcher, yeah, you are.” 

“Walked right into that one, fair.” 

Clint laughed, manoeuvring Bucky around as much as he could to wipe them off and then chucked the dirty shirt in the general direction of _ away _, then settled back down, pulling Bucky back on top of him. They grinned, bright blue eyes crinkling and a curtain of dark hair tickling Clint’s face, making him splutter. Of course, that only spurred Bucky on, rubbing their hair in his face while laughing in delight. 

Then, Clint’s complete lack of thinking things through tugged Bucky down by their nape, still laughing into a kiss that was more teeth and hair than lips. Bucky froze for a second against Clint’s lips, then pulled away to move their hair out of the way and kissing him proper, and wasn’t that something, because this wasn’t kissing to get somewhere, this was kissing just for kissing, as if they’d done this a million times before.

And Clint-

Look, he obviously wasn’t entertaining any notions about being in love with Bucky, but a good bit of crush at first sight? Absolutely. Bucky was quick as a whip, funny, and could also do _ wicked _things with their tongue to make Clint forget his train of thought for a few seconds, sinking back into the heady feeling of a body pressed all up against him, the slow warmth of afterglow still simmering under his skin. 

Bucky pulled away from him with one last peck to his lips, leaving Clint to blink his eyes open with considerable effort, not really managing more than half open, a soft haze blurring his vision because focusing was too much effort, no matter how nice and wet Bucky’s mouth must have looked. 

Clint smiled as Bucky snapped a tie off their wrist and tied their hair into a quick bun, looking every bit a Greek god (god? goddess? gender-neutral god? Were there gender-neutral Greek gods? He quickly stalled that thought for later), and at ease, beaming down at him and asking, as if they could read his mind:

“So, what do you say about dinner tomorrow?” 

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](atheoryon.tumblr.com)
> 
> lemme know if you enjoyed it!


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